He refilled and lighted his pipe, then he said, "I don't want to invade private precincts, but after hearing that I'd like to see the portrait. May I?"
I delved into the mate's chest, and unwrapped the newspaper page.
For some moments he gazed at it, and I began to wonder whether it held the same magic infatuation for every one else that it did for me. His expression was enigmatical and his voice, when he spoke at last, was puzzled.
"It's very hackneyed," he said, "but we must go on saying it. The world is an extremely small place."
"What do you mean?" I demanded.
He was still looking at the picture and he spoke reflectively as though I had not been present.
"The loveliest girl in Dixie. They all said so."
"In Dixie," I echoed eagerly, "Do you mean you know her?"
"I've danced with her a dozen times," he answered, "and yet I can't say I know her. I remember that all the men were paying court, and I fancy I should have been smitten like the rest except that my wife had just accepted me, and I had only one pair of eyes."
"For God's sake," I said very quietly, "let me have all that you know about her—name—address."